


Ironic

by kjack89



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Developing Relationship, First Meetings, Hijinks & Shenanigans, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-20
Updated: 2020-12-20
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:00:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,321
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28184319
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kjack89/pseuds/kjack89
Summary: Just as Jehan was about to throw his pen and possibly himself onto the ground in despair, a sudden, urgent knock sounded on the door, and his head snapped up. “Hello?” he said cautiously.A large, burly guy poked his head into the room. “Hey,” he said, as if he was greeting an old friend and not a complete stranger. “Can you do me a favor?”Jehan opened his mouth to say no, but instead, for reasons passing all understanding, he said, “Depends on the favor.”
Relationships: Bahorel/Jean Prouvaire
Comments: 13
Kudos: 40
Collections: Les Mis Holiday Exchange (2020)





	Ironic

**Author's Note:**

  * For [WilwyWaylan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/WilwyWaylan/gifts).



> For the prompt, "Some meet cute and Romantic shenanigans with our two romantics ! about reading, theater, anything. Preferably modern era, no sad ending or character death please" with Bahorel/Jehan. 
> 
> Let's just say I leaned a little heavily into the 'anything' in the prompt.

It was potentially a controversial choice, but Jehan’s favorite library on campus was not the main library that housed most books he would ever actually need for his studies. That tall, imposing building was cold, and served only to stifle Jehan’s inspiration.

Or at least, so he told those curious enough to ask.

In reality, it was always too crowded, the best study carrels reserved weeks in advance. The science library was too quiet; the medical library was all the way on the other side of campus. If the business school had a library, Jehan had never seen it (and based on the few business students he’d met, he doubted they had either). 

But the law library – the law library had the perfect amount of hustle and bustle, as well as a truly gorgeous view overlooking the river. Not to mention it was always good for a bit of humor around the time the bar exam was offered as 3L law students slowly lost what remained of their minds.

Nothing cheered Jehan quite like witnessing someone else’s nervous breakdown.

He could be found there a number of times a week, and most of the actual law students didn’t bother him too much. And when he really needed to work without distraction, he could normally sweet-talk the student worker at the circulation desk into letting him reserve a study room even though he wasn’t a law student.

It was one of those days, late on a Saturday evening in the middle of the semester when even the most conscientious of students were at the game or partying off campus. Jehan normally had no compunction about joining them, but he had a meeting with his dissertation adviser that Monday for which he desperately needed the next chapter of his dissertation ready for review.

He had been in the same small study room on the third room for going on eight hours and at that rate, was not likely to leave for another four if not more, and he shifted uncomfortably in his seat, crossing out a sentence before frowning at the revised paragraph and rewriting it in the margin. “Damnit,” he muttered, glancing up at the clock and wondering if he should take a break before he joined the 3L students in their breakdowns.

Just as he was about to throw his pen and possibly himself onto the ground in despair, a sudden, urgent knock sounded on the door, and his head snapped up. “Hello?” he said cautiously.

A large, burly guy poked his head into the room. “Hey,” he said, as if he was greeting an old friend and not a complete stranger. “Can you do me a favor?”

Jehan opened his mouth to say no, but instead, for reasons passing all understanding, he said, “Depends on the favor.”

The man grinned and stepped fully into the room. He was built like a football player, and the only thing that saved him from looking like any number of frat guys on campus was the faded black denim vest he wore, which was adorned with all sorts of buttons, patches and spikes, including a pin that proclaimed, "My pronouns are fuck around/find out" next to what looked like a clumsy attempt at an embroidered hammer and sickle.

The visual effect was striking in its contradictions, and the guy’s grinned widened as Jehan stared at him. “See something you like?” he asked, and Jehan blinked.

“Uh,” he said eloquently, before changing the subject. “You said you needed a favor?”

The guy looked almost disappointed for a brief moment before rallying. “Right,” he said. “Can I stash something in here for a few hours?”

Jehan looked warily at him. “If I get caught with drugs on campus again, they’ll probably expel me.”

“Narcs,” the guy said cheerfully. “But it’s not drugs.”

“Then what—”

Jehan broke off when the guy retreated from the room before returning a moment later with what appeared to be a fully assembled human skeleton. “Can you keep an eye on him?”

“Is that a real skeleton?”

Jehan was more curious than disgusted, and the guy’s grin sharpened. “That depends entirely on how you would define the term ‘real’. In this case, while yes, it is an accurate skeleton of the human body, these are not human bones. Just a very good facsimile “

Nodding, Jehan gestured towards one of the open seats at the table. “Dare I ask why you need me to watch a skeleton for you?”

“Does it matter?” the guy asked, depositing the skeleton into a chair before busying himself with positioning the skeleton into what he clearly deemed a more comfortable position. 

Jehan considered it for a moment. “No,” he decided.

“Then in that case, I will keep that as a ‘need to know’,” the guy said, taking a step back from the skeleton and giving it a critical once-over before nodding. “And I will therefore leave you both to it.”

He started towards the door but Jehan stopped him with a somewhat bemused, “Hang on a second. When do you plan on coming back? And should I be keeping my eye out for anyone in particular? And what’s your name?”

“I’m Bahorel,” the guy, Bahorel, said, picking the last question to answer first, and he stepped forward to offer Jehan his hand to shake. “As for when I’ll be back, well, God willing and the creek don’t rise, no later than midnight. And let’s just say that campus security might have their eye out for our bony friend here.”

Jehan frowned, remembering the campus security alert that he’d received earlier that afternoon. “Hang on,” he said slowly, “were you the one who broke into a medical laboratory?”

Bahorel smirked. “Best you don’t know,” he said, edging towards the door. “Plausible deniability and all that.”

He had a point, and Jehan didn’t press it. “What if I need to leave before you get back?”

Bahorel shrugged, glancing over his shoulder as he continued heading toward the door. “Lock the door,” he suggested.

“Then how will you get in to retrieve it?”

Bahorel just arched an eyebrow in what he clearly thought was a roguish and mysterious way. “I have my ways,” he said. “See you later, uh…”

He trailed off, apparently realizing for the first time that while he’d given Jehan his name, he had never asked for Jehan’s. Jehan let him sweat for a moment before telling him blithely, “It’s Jehan.”

“Right,” Bahorel said, his grin back. “See you later, Jehan.”

Then he was gone, and Jehan looked at the skeleton for a long moment before returning to his dissertation chapter with renewed enthusiasm.

* * *

Unfortunately, Bahorel did not return by midnight, and as the time crept closer to 1 a.m., Jehan decided against waiting for him.

Still, after he had packed up all of his belongings, he couldn’t help but feel a little guilty as he glanced back at the skeleton, still seated expectantly at the table, and he hesitated for a moment before sighing and setting his stuff down. He dug a scary out of his bag and carefully draped it around the skeleton’s neck, before placing his knit cap over its head and his mittens on its hands. “There,” he said, satisfied. “Now I feel less bad leaving you here. Though I hope Bahorel’s back soon.”

With that, he locked the door from the inside and turned off the light, closing the door after him with a snap.

* * *

When he returned the following afternoon, the skeleton was gone, and the only sign of the previous night was a sticky note on the table.

Jehan picked the note up, reading the hastily scrawled, 

_J—_

_Sorry I was late. Thanks again._

_—B_

Jehan shook his head and tucked the note into his bag, ready to chalk it up as one of those weird things that happen in grad school and figuring it was time to put it out of his mind.

* * *

The following Saturday found Jehan in much the same place as the prior weekend, though this time he was scowling down at the myriad edits his advisor had for his dissertation chapter. She might as well have just written ‘re-write’ on it, and Jehan glared at the offending paper as if he could incinerate it with the force of his glare alone.

As such, he didn’t notice when the door opened, and almost jumped out of his chair when a voice said, half-amused, “Hey.”

Jehan blinked up at Bahorel, who was leaning on the doorframe and grinning at him. “Hey yourself,” he said primly, trying not to look as flustered as he felt. “You didn’t come back by midnight. Does that mean the creek rose?” 

Bahorel shook his head as he plopped down in one of the open chairs. “No, but it does mean that I got detained for questioning,” he said cheerfully. Jehan frowned slightly and he just waved a dismissive hand. “Don’t worry, I talked my way out of it. Besides, they had no real evidence.”

“Uh-huh,” Jehan said, a little skeptically, sitting back in his seat. “So what can I aid and abet you with this time?”

Bahorel’s grin returned. “Nothing,” he said, reaching into his bag and retrieving Jehan’s sweater, cap and mittens. “I actually came to return these.”

Jehan smiled slightly as Bahorel passed the knit items over to him. “Oh, thanks,” he said. “You could have kept them, though. I’ve got plenty – I crochet when I’m stressed.”

Bahorel brightened. “Really? I cross stitch when I’m feeling blue.”

“Cross stitch?” Jehan repeated, trying to picture the brawny man doing something as delicate as that.

Bahorel just shrugged. “Well, that or I box. But cross stitch is more soothing – something about stabbing something repeatedly, I’d guess.”

Jehan laughed. “I can see that,” he said, tucking his scarf, cap and mittens into his bag. “Well, thank you for returning them.”

“And thank you for watching the skeleton.”

“Oh, it was no trouble,” Jehan informed him. “Not my first time watching stolen property, and besides, Bartholomew and I were old friends by the time the night was over.”

Bahorel raised both eyebrows. “Bartholomew?” he repeated.

Jehan shrugged. “Yeah, he just struck me as a Bartholomew.”

Bahorel laughed and shook his head. “I knew I was right taking a chance on asking you to stash him.”

Jehan cocked his head. “Why did you ask me, by the way?”

“Well, I figured the law library was probably the last place the cops would look,” Bahorel reasoned, “and you looked trustworthy.”

Jehan gave him a skeptical look. “Really?” he asked doubtfully.

Bahorel grinned. “Ok maybe not, but you looked the least like a law student who would probably have ratted me out before I even left the building.”

Jehan smirked. “Fair.” He cleared his throat. “So speaking of not being a law student, what exactly do you student when you’re not cross stitching or dabbling in larceny?”

To his surprise, Bahorel looked almost embarrassed. “Well, see, the thing of it is, nominally speaking at least, I’m a, uh, law student.”

Jehan blinked. “Really?”

Bahorel nodded. “Really. I’m as disappointed as you.”

Jehan shook his head. “A law student who thieves in his spare time,” he said slowly. “That sounds like an Alanis Morisette lyric.”

Bahorel barked a laugh. “If it helps, I wasn’t stealing the skeleton.”

“No?”

“No, I was liberating it,” Bahorel said, somewhat smugly. “Bartholomew wasn’t reaching its full potential where it was.”

Jehan arched an eyebrow. “And it will now?”

“Sure.”

Jehan waited expectantly, but Bahorel didn’t seem in a rush to elaborate. “Are you going to tell me what it’s being used for now?”

Bahorel grinned. “Nah. Figured it’s better to leave that to your imagination. Just know it’s being put to good use.”

“As ominous as that could sound in a different context, I believe you.”

“You do?” For some reason, Bahorel sounded almost surprised by that before his previous grin returned. “Why, is it my honest face?”

Jehan snorted and Bahorel chuckled good-naturedly. “No,” Jehan informed him, “I just don’t think you’d be dumb enough to return for the third time to the scene of a crime if you were stealing it for something nefarious.”

Bahorel’s eyes narrowed. “I can’t tell if that’s a compliment or not.”

Jehan smiled sweetly at him. “I figure it’s better to leave that to your imagination.”

Bahorel laughed again before he glanced at Jehan. “And if my imagination says it was, does that mean I’d be out of line asking if you want to get a drink with me?”

Jehan hesitated. “That depends on why you want to get a drink with me,” he hedged.

“You mean besides the obvious, which is that I think you’re hot?” Bahorel asked bluntly, and when Jehan just looked at him, he smiled slowly. “Well, then I want to get a drink with you because I believe we’ve got some important things to discuss.”

“Like what?”

“Like the fact that I take issue with your allusion to the seminal Alanis Morisette song, as I don’t think this situation actually constitutes irony.”

Bahorel’s tone was even but he still took Jehan by surprise, and Jehan paused for a moment, examining Bahorel’s expression and reading the challenge there for what it was. “Maybe not,” he said with a casual shrug. “But nor do most if not all the situations described in that song. Besides—” He lifted his chin slightly with a challenge of his own. “—I don’t know that I’d describe ‘Ironic’ as seminal.”

Bahorel blinked. “Excuse me?”

“I mean, it’s not even in the top four of songs off of _Jagged Little Pill_ , let alone Alanis’s entire discography.” Bahorel gaped at him, looking like Jehan had just personally offended him, and Jehan smiled blithely. “You still want to get that drink?”

“Are you kidding me?” Bahorel demanded, his grin returning in full force. “I’ve never wanted anything more.”


End file.
